What He Left Behind
by modernday1997
Summary: Leila Martin wakes one morning to her ordinary life. One news segment turns ordinary, upside down. Leila's secret romance turns to ashes, and her heart is shattered. Will she survive this and senior year, when the one person she was counting on doesn't?
1. Chapter 1

I sat up straight in bed. My alarm clock flashed 8:05 and I fumbled my way out of my white fluffy comforter and into my adjoined bathroom. I yanked a brush through my dark brunette locks and pinched my freckled cheeks. This would have to do.

The television set droned on quietly in the background. I skirted around the dark wooden banister at the bottom of the staircase in my childhood home, running too late and moving too quickly to notice what the news anchor was saying as BREAKING NEWS flashed in red across the screen.

My name is Leila Martin, and today, my whole life changes.

My dad mumbled an incoherent, "morning, girl" from his spot in the recliner, but he was a little too busy reading the morning paper to notice my late dash down the hall.

My mom was shuffling through some papers in her briefcase, "you're late, again," she muttered.

Her glasses were perched on her nose and she hadn't bothered to look up from the case she must have been studying.

"Up late last night?" my little brother Graham jeered at me as I flew past the breakfast bar in our kitchen, grabbing an apple and making a beeline for the refrigerator to take a few swigs of milk out of the carton before mom could make any more remarks. It was our morning routine. I stuck my tongue out at Graham between a bite of apple and one final chug of milk and made the cut throat motion with my other hand. We had a silent agreement, he and I. He kept quiet about Matt coming through my balcony window every night, and I kept quiet about his internet browsing history, which I had come upon one afternoon when I needed to use his laptop.

Matt was the star quarterback of the football team and had a full ride to Ohio State University next fall. Only sometimes did teachers remember my name, and it was usually because I had made the highest grade in the class. My mission through high school had been simple, get the hell out. My plan was derailed however, when Matt came stumbling through the tutoring center doors our junior year, desperate for a passing grade in math. It had started out slowly, the foundation between he and I wasn't made in a day or even a week. Somehow though, its almost as if we both began to wake up, and we started talking.

"Pryce," my dad hollered, my mother's name, from the family room, "kids get in here!"

I was shuffling through my backpack, trying to sort through a few papers and mentally running through a checklist of what I needed to accomplish and get done that day. Matt still had my calculator in his bag from the night before. These days our tutoring sessions, usually held in my bedroom floor late at night, consisted of me swearing up and down we were actually going to get some work done, and Matt persuading me otherwise. It wasn't a big deal; I would just grab it from him at school later on. It would just give me a chance to talk to him when normally that sort of thing was off limits. Although it wasn't conventional, Matt and I had made our secret relationship work. We had too much going on, we said, we were too different to be together just yet. Matt had enough pressure on him in the shape of his father, not to mention a crazy ex girlfriend that would slap his face and go to jump his bones in the same breath. I was a straight-A student waiting to hear from Duke any minute, early acceptance. We would make it work next fall, if we could handle this, a long distance relationship would be nothing.

"We here at Shefford News 7 are saddened to announce the passing of one of our own. Matthew Cameron Satterfield, quarterback of the Shefford Lions, was found dead at the scene of a car accident in the early hours of the morning, off Fairview Road," the broadcaster spoke solemnly.

"We'll be back with more details shortly."

Everything stopped.

Had I heard right? It had been only a few hours since I had seen him, kissed him. A muffled choking sound registered in my brain, and when I looked around to see my family's eyes on me, I realized it was coming from my own mouth.

"Oh dear, Leila, I had no idea you were so close," mumbled my mom, as her hand swooped out for a sympathetic pat on my shoulder.

Before her hand could fall on me, Graham had wrenched me away by my wrist, hauling me up the stairs two at a time.

"Snap out of it Lei," Graham said as he reached up to put his hands on my shoulders and shake me gently.

My blue eyes found my baby brother's matching set and it was all I could do to hold it together. My gangly Graham, all arms and legs. I had taken one look at him when Mom and Dad brought him home and immediately asked to send him back.

Now is one of the times I'm glad they didn't listen to me.

"He was leaving here, wasn't he Leila? He was going home from seeing you?" asked Graham.

It hit me then like a sack of bricks, he had been with me. It was getting late and he wanted to be back before his father noticed. I hadn't gotten a text from him telling me he was home, like I usually got after one of our late night trysts. How could I not have known something was wrong?

I didn't know whether I was going to punch a wall or be sick.

I chose the latter.

Graham tried to keep his composure, but I knew it was taking all his strength to not yak himself. He slipped out of his shoes quickly and pushed me up against the bed. Matt had done this at least a hundred times, but now, in some sick, twisted, parallel universe, it was Graham doing it and for all the wrong reasons. I was stiff, my joints had locked in place and my hands were balled into clammy fists at my side. Had Graham not tipped me back, I probably would've already fallen over.

My eyes unfocused for a second and then fluttered closed.

 _When Matt walked into the tutoring center, I had been briefly stunned. The last thing I needed was some stubborn jock with a complex coming in and making my life difficult. I flipped through the schedule, looking for anyone that could take on Matt and his grade, which needed fixing in the worst way. I sighed inwardly, I was the only one available._

 _I wasn't a shy person, I really wasn't. It's just, when someone new came around, I kind of lost it. It's like my tongue suddenly became too big for my mouth and I lost all social skills, except for my ability to randomly blurt out useless facts that no one really cared about. Somehow though, even in the beginning, things were different with Matt._

 _"No funny business," I deadpanned. He looked taken aback, but he nodded quickly._

 _"I can get your grade up, but when it comes down to it, this is all going to be on your shoulders. I'm Leila-," I went to continue, but he interrupted me._

 _"-Martin, I know. We had chemistry together last semester. You got an A on that mole project that everyone else basically failed. Mrs. Davis worshipped you."_

 _"Are you here for chemistry too?" I retorted._

 _I swear I saw Matt Satterfield blush._

"LEILA," Graham shout whispered, "Mom is going to be up here in about 2.5 seconds, get your shit together!"

I covered my mouth and ran for the bathroom again. I wrenched the toilet seat up, almost ripping it out of its socket in the process. While I was spilling my guts, again, my mom came in.

"Oh my, do you reckon it's a stomach bug?" she pondered out loud.

I sat back against the cool side of my bathtub and put my head between my legs. This is just a dream. I'm just in a Carrie Underwood music video. Wake up! I pinched myself as hard as I could, and nothing. I felt slender hands under my underarms and suddenly my body was making the motions to walk itself back into my bedroom. My mother- or was it Graham, I couldn't tell at this point, got me into bed.

"I'll call the school and have Graham take a note in for your teachers, dear. I'm needed in the office the rest of the day, but dad will be here if you need anything. I'll send him up with some ginger ale soon. Rest now Leila," my mom cooed, brushing my hair from my damp face.

I was alone. Not just in the physical sense, everyone had left my room, but in every way possible. No one had known about Matt and I, we had made it a vow to keep it our little secret. I hadn't even told my best friend. No one would believe that Leila Martin had captured the eye of the golden boy of Shefford High.

 _"Loser Leila!," I heard someone call._

 _I cringed and turned around to face my taunter. As soon as I did a shoulder collided with mine, sending me backwards into the lockers and my books spilling all over the hall. It was Olivia, Matt's ex-girlfriend. She flung herself in and out of his life at her discretion, always just arms length away, incase she needed to needle her way back in. She wasn't the typical "Queen B" that you would see if this had been a movie. Olivia wasn't a cheerleader, she wasn't the prom queen, Olivia was just a bitch._

 _She sauntered over to Matt, all curly red hair and big green eyes. Her hand went to the hemline of his shirt and she twisted her self around him like a vine of ivy. Except Olivia was more of the poison variety. Matt's eyes locked with mine and I could see the yearning in them, I knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't._

 _"Hey, baby," she purred, stepping up on her tip toes to press her mouth against his ear._

 _"Honestly, Olivia... fuck off," Matt said, moving away from her and shaking his head._

 _He glanced up at me again, mouthed a faint "I'm sorry," and walked away._


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep came and went as it pleased for the rest of the afternoon.

I vaguely remember opening my eyes and seeing my dad coming in at one point, the worry lines etched into his forehead. Bless his heart, this wasn't his forte.

"Lei, I brought you some ginger ale," he spoke, quietly, as he pulled the covers up to my chin. No doubt, per my mother's instructions. I didn't rustle, needing only to be left alone. Let them think this was a stomach bug. God, I needed them to think this was only a stomach bug.

My illness was starting to convince even me. Between the spurts of sleep came cold sweats and deep waves of nausea that overcame my entire body. It jolted me to the bathroom and forced my head over the toilet more times than I could count. Eventually, my body had nothing left to give and the dry heaving left my stomach muscles permanently clenched and sore.

I laid back in bed after my latest tryst on the cold tile floor and thought ironically, _What if I do actually have the flu?_ I had gotten my shot back in October, and it was nearing Thanksgiving now. Flu season. Suddenly, I was blinking back tears.

I had forced Matt to get his flu shot as well.

 _"Leeeilllaaaaaaaaa," he whined, nuzzling his head between my ear and my shoulder._

 _"I'm not arguing about this anymore, Matt!" I yell-whispered. I pretended to be exasperated with his antics, but really I was just relishing in the feel of his lips against my neck. I was adamant. Flu season was coming up and the last thing he needed was to get the flu and have to sit out a game during his senior year... or worse, give me the flu when I had the SATs coming up in three weeks._

 _"I've never had a flu shot before and look at me, I'm perfect!" he boasted, flexing his biceps and giving me that smile he thought could get him out of anything. Almost anything._

 _"No more," I stated. "You're getting the shot and that's final! I'll hold your hand if you're such a scaredy-cat," I mocked teasingly. As soon as I had gotten the words out of my mouth, I clamped my lips shut. The nurse was the one giving the shots, the school nurse. We both knew I wouldn't walk into the office with him, much less hold his hand._

 _He grabbed my chin and forced my head up, so our eyes could meet._

 _"Don't be sad," he pleaded. "Not even a year is left before we blow this popsicle stand and we're free to do what we want, be who we want."_

 _I started again, "I know, I just-", but suddenly I had been silenced. His lips begun working on my neck again, he knew it was my weakness. I rolled my eyes, wanting to be annoyed, but too engrossed in the way his hands fit around my hips and had started to ease me onto the floor beneath us. We didn't talk for the rest of the night._

I broke from my trance. The hurt consumed me, I didn't think it could be any worse.

I could hear the faint buzzing of my phone that was buried somewhere in the mound of my bedspread. I patted furiously around for it, not in the mood deal with anyone or anything. My plan was to shut it off and fall back into my pillows. I finally found it shoved between my mattress and my wall, about to fall through the crack. _Funny_ , I thought, _I feel the same way_.

My phone was alight with various notifications from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Of course, none of them were for me personally. Matt's name filled the bubbles and it seemed someone had already started a GoFundMe to cover the cost of his funeral. Like his family needed the money. Over $1000 had already been raised.

At the top of the screen, my best friends name flashed. Sydney Porter and I had been inseparable since seventh grade. I thought high school would bring an end to our sleepovers and having a forever partner on school assignments. She had decided to up and join the cheerleading squad the fall of our freshman year. It seemed that some bonds are just unbreakable though, she had remained as loyal as ever.

Seeing her name brought the pang of guilt I always felt when I thought about Matt and how I had kept him from her for so long. Not being able to confide in my best friend was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. We used to fantasize about our first time with the boy of our dreams over tubs of cookie dough ice cream. We pictured rose petals and candles flickering in the dimly lit room. While my times with Matt had never been quite that teeny-soap-operaish, I longed to tell Sydney about them.

Three messages. I'm surprised she hadn't called the FBI. I never missed school.

 _"OHMIGOD! DID YOU HEAR?!" "Where the actual fuck are you?" "Call me."_

I replied with a simple, _"See you at 3:45."_ This was our code for ice cream and Bachelorette reruns... and stat.

Sydney breezed through my front door and up the staircase as though she lived here, which I guess, she basically did. Her parents had her when they were 16 and had pretty much wanted nothing to do with her when she was born. Luckily, her dad's mother, Mama J, as we called her, stepped in and raised her as her own. She was a sweet old lady, full of Southern charm and values, but she was a bit clueless. Sydney liked to think of my parents as her surrogate mom and dad, and they had certainly obliged.

"Cookie dough. Two spoons."

Sydney plopped down on my bed, not the least bit concerned with sharing whatever airborne disease I may be carrying.

"Hi to you too," I whispered, grabbing a spoon and flicking the lid of the ice cream carton off.

Her head snapped to look at me and a look of horror crossed her face. I didn't think I looked that bad, but as I caught my reflection in the mirror across my room, I understood where she was coming from.

"God," she whispered, while attempting to nonchalantly scoot a few inches away, "what's got you?"

I blinked back more tears that sprung to my eyes. Sydney just looked at me.

"Not you too," she moaned. "If I have to hear one more person talk about Matt Satterfield and how close they were to him I'm going to start swinging. It's totally tragic, don't get me wrong. But isn't it enough that we went to school with him? I can't fabricate some story about how we were lovers carrying on some secret affair. People can't just be sad anymore."

"Who said that?" I snapped at her. She didn't seem to notice my sudden change in attitude.

"Oh, no one," she continued. "But you should have seen Olivia Turner. You would have thought she had been recently widowed. Like they haven't been together in-"

"10 months," I stated solemnly. "They haven't been together in 10 months."

Sydney narrowed her eyes at me. "Seriously, what's wrong?" She grabbed the spoon out of my hand at held it out of reaching distance.

"I have to tell you something," I choked out.

She handed me back my spoon and sat up straight, crossing her legs.

"Start at the beginning."


End file.
